


Appointment with Destiny

by stormypetrel



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormypetrel/pseuds/stormypetrel
Summary: Ever thought there were a few things unexplained inMission to Destiny?You and me both... and maybe it might have occurred to theLiberator’screw, too, before their journey’s end...
Comments: 44
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I seem to be responsible for all the mending and darning in my house (I know, serve me right for letting on I know how), I thought I might as well have a go at darning a few well-known plot holes while I was about it. Which may well lead to a state similar to that of the well-known oozlem bird, but I’ll risk it...

It had been entirely understandable, everyone agreed afterwards, that Blake had been in a hurry to return the remnants of the _Ortega’s_ crew and their neutrotope to Destiny by the swiftest route. They had, in fact, agreed at the time that passing through the meteorite storm still raging was worth the risk; Dr Kendall and his companions were as eager to reach their destination as the _Liberator’s_ crew were to get them there. The lone dissenting voice- Vila’s- had been ignored. That, even Avon admitted subsequently, had been a mistake.

“And making him stay on the flight deck, Blake, was sheer lunacy.”

Blake was forced to admit the truth of this statement as they waited awkwardly for Gan to finish the reluctant task of cleaning up after one flight-sick thief. Jenna had taken their guests to the more pleasant surroundings of the recreation room in the meantime; Cally, they assumed, was dealing with Vila himself, for she had been the one to shepherd him off the flight deck before he could disgrace himself any further.

“Someone needed to watch the detector screens.”

“Then ask any of us, next time. Not _him_! Or is the welfare of your crew not a priority?”

“I’m sure Vila’s all right.”

“I wasn’t thinking of Vila.”

Blake ignored that. “I expect Cally will let us know,” he said neutrally.

“No doubt.”

.....................................................................................................................................

Cally, at that moment, was otherwise occupied. The _Liberator’s_ medical bay was well supplied, but its anti-sickness drugs had proved to be sadly misnamed in Vila’s case. She had left him in his cabin, looking very sorry for himself, while she went to find something less controversial to give him. Returning with some plain water, a heat pad and a clean basin, she tapped on his cabin door. There was no answer, but the door was ajar. Cautiously, she peered round it; at first glance, there was no sign of Vila. On closer inspection, his whereabouts were given away by a human-sized mound under the bedclothes; a foot, still wearing a familiar shoe, poked out untidily. Obviously he had considered it more than enough effort just to crawl into bed fully clothed. Cally hesitated, uncertain if he was asleep; but he stirred as she went to put the basin down beside him.

“Do you want this?” she queried. He blinked at her sleepily.

“Not really,” he answered, still sounding miserable. “I’m hoping I don’t need it... Oh.” He saw the heat pad she was holding, and took it with a look of gratitude. “Yes. Thanks.” He drew it under the blankets and hugged it tightly.

“You should be feeling better by now.”

Vila grimaced. “I wish I was.” Cally waited for the inevitable exaggerated complaint, but he only went on distractedly, “Cally?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure Avon got it right? About that girl being the murderer, I mean?”

Cally stared. Of all the things that Vila might have been worrying about at the present moment, that particular question had not occurred to her; but he was obviously serious.

“What makes you ask that?” she inquired.

“Well, it doesn’t seem right, somehow. Her doing all that on her own.” He looked earnestly at her. “What about Sonheim? There’s something suspicious about him, if you ask me...”

Cally smiled, guessing what had raised his suspicions in the first place. Sonheim’s comments at the disaster on the flight deck had been loud, pointed, and clearly deeply resented by their object.

“He has an unfortunate manner,” she allowed.

“Is that what you call it?” 

“He is unpleasant to everyone, Vila. That doesn’t make him a murderer.”

“No, but...” Vila wriggled, his brow creased in thought. “ _Wouldn’t_ she have needed help?”

“From Sonheim? I don’t think so. Anyway, she admitted to everything,” Cally pointed out. “She had no reason to lie.”

Vila remained unconvinced. “I still don’t like it. You’ve missed something. I’m sure of it,” he persisted. “If I was feeling better I’d be able to think of what it was.”

Cally only continued to smile tolerantly. “Go to sleep,” she advised. “You’re not well; that is all.”

“Oh, that’s all, is it? It’s quite enough for me. I’m still feeling awful, you know. I told you all we should go the easy way round this time, because I felt bad enough coming through that storm before, but nobody would listen. Who ever listens to me?” He wriggled again, somehow managing to look both indignant and faintly pathetic, and shut his eyes. Cally, reassured by this return to normality, turned to go. “Still think you should be careful. Something’s not right.” The sleepily muttered warning made her look round again, but Vila was curled up with his back to her; she went out, closing the door, and left him to it.

.....................................................................................................................................

Order had been restored to the flight deck when Cally returned; Jenna was back at the controls with Blake and Avon, while Dr Kendall, Grovane and Sonheim had also left the recreation room and were now watching the main screen with interest.

“We should have an uneventful journey from now on, then,” Dr Kendall was saying.

“Yes,” agreed Blake. Seeing Cally come in, he asked resignedly, “How’s Vila?”

“I’m not sure.” Cally, aware of the contemptuous look on Sonheim’s face, recalled Vila’s suspicions and regretfully discarded them. “He is still complaining of feeling ill. I left him to rest.”

“That is preferable to him bothering us,” agreed Avon unconcernedly. Blake frowned.

“Not if there’s something wrong with him. Should we be worried?”

“He seemed quiet enough when I left him.” _Something’s not right..._ Cally tried to shake a sudden feeling of unease; Vila’s wild imaginings were surely the result of his resentment at the remarks Sonheim had made at his expense, nothing more. There was no reason for her to take any notice; but there was something else he had said, something which made sense... She frowned, thinking. “I will check, later.”

“Yes, do. In the meantime... Flight time to Destiny, Zen?”

+Estimated flight time seventy-six hours and twenty-seven minutes.+

“Long enough for us all to get some rest,” remarked Jenna, stifling a yawn. Blake glanced across at her.

“All right. We can manage with the automatics for now?”

“Yes. I’ve set the coordinates.”

Blake nodded. “You go, then. What about yourselves?” He turned to their guests as Jenna thankfully made her escape.

“I think we could all do with some sleep,” admitted Dr Kendall.

“I’ll show you where to go...” Blake led the three men from the flight deck, leaving Cally and Avon alone.

Cally watched Avon for a moment, holding back, until he broke the silence.

“Well?” he said. “What is it? You are not that concerned about Vila.”

“Something he said.” She sounded relieved not to have to broach the subject herself.

“Oh?” Avon waited, curious to see what it could have been to bother Cally so much; as if in answer to his unspoken thought, she assured him,

“Nothing like that! Only... he was worried.”

“When isn’t he?”

“Worried that we may have brought a murderer on board.” That surprised Avon, she saw.

“And who is this murderer supposed to be?” he inquired.

“He suggested Sonheim.”

Avon smiled. “Then tell him he is safe. Sonheim might have a very low tolerance for his fellow man- particularly if his fellow man has just been publicly sick all over the flight deck- but I hardly think he is going to murder Vila in his bed on that basis.”

“I think I agree with you,” said Cally slowly.

“There is a ‘but’,” remarked Avon.

“He also wanted to know how a girl like Sara had managed to carry everything out without help.”

Avon looked surprised. “He appears to have been thinking about it rather more than his limited intellect would warrant possible. And I suppose you are now also thinking about it?”

“Yes,” admitted Cally.

“What conclusion have you reached?”

“I think Vila might have a point.”

“Indeed? I suppose it is possible, although I have not been able to ascertain what it is.” Cally looked reproachful; Avon carried on, “What precisely worries you about his questions?”

“You said it must have been too difficult to get Dortmunn’s body to the life rocket, so he was hidden on board the ship instead.”

“Yes.”

“But his body was on top of a cupboard, above the level of my head. It could not have been easy to lift him there, either. I don’t think I could do it; I would certainly find it difficult. Sara was shorter than I am. To get the body of a man on to a high shelf...”

“She must have had help?”

“Yes,” agreed Cally.

“Then if you are right, we may have a problem.” Avon frowned. “At least our pool of suspects is rather smaller than it was,” he remarked, with a suspicion of humour.

“Have you any idea who it could be?”

“At the moment, none. But if we are going to spend the next seventy-six hours with them on board, it might be wise for us to try and find out.”


	2. Chapter 2

“We should tell Blake.” Cally, now that she had persuaded Avon of the flaw in his reasoning, was decided. Avon was less convinced.

“What difference do you suppose that will make?”

“If one of the people we have brought on board is a murderer, he ought to know.”

“So he can hand out summary justice once again?”

Cally looked troubled. “I don’t think he would do anything like that. But we must warn him, Avon. He may be in danger himself.” Avon looked quizzically at her; she carried on, “He destroyed the ship coming to collect the neutrotope. If the people on board were allies of whoever was betraying the _Ortega’s_ crew, then that person is liable to be very angry...”

“Revenge, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“I should think in that case we might also be in danger. For someone in that state of mind, the defining line between Blake and the rest of us is hardly likely to be clear cut. And you and I are the ones who stayed on board to put paid to their plans.”

“But we are aware that we should be careful,” argued Cally. “Blake is not. Besides,” she added, as a new thought occurred to her, “We have the neutrotope on board now. What is to stop them making a fresh attempt to steal it?”

“The lack of anyone to sell it to?” suggested Avon. He seemed prepared to capitulate, however. “Very well. If you wish to inform Blake, don’t let me stop you. I can imagine his reaction, but I dare say he will stop short of blowing the _Liberator_ to atoms purely to warn off a suspected traitor.” He returned to fiddling with his console, unmoved by Cally’s impatient glance. Seeing she would get no further with him, she turned to go in search of Blake.

She found him looking into the recreation room, where Gan was sitting on his own; to her relief, none of the _Ortega’s_ crew were with them.

“Blake? Could you come to the flight deck?”

“If you need me to,” agreed Blake, sounding surprised. “What is it?”

“I think you should come... It will be easier if Avon helps to explain. We think there may be a problem with our passengers,” Cally explained awkwardly.

“Oh? All right.” He turned to follow her, beckoning to Gan to join them. Avon looked up as the three of them came in, but he made no comment, leaving it to Cally to begin the explanation.

“So what is it that you want to tell us?” Blake queried, seating himself on the couch to listen. Cally and Gan joined him; Avon remained standing. He might have been trying to distance himself from the proceedings; his expression, for the moment, remained one of disinterest.

“We are not sure if Sara was acting alone,” said Cally. “She may have had an accomplice on board, after all.”

Blake frowned, taking her meaning immediately. “And the accomplice is now on board the _Liberator_? Who is it?”

The blunt question moved Avon to intervene. “If we knew that, it would hardly be a problem,” he remarked. “Not, of course, that we have any proof that Vila’s supposition is correct...”

“ _Vila’s_ supposition?” Blake looked up at him, confused. “Where does he come into it?”

It was Cally who answered.

“It was something he said earlier. I thought at first that he was just imagining things; he was still not well, and he often worries even when he has no reason...” Blake laughed at her description.

“You could say that,” he agreed. 

“But some of what he said made sense.”

“For a wonder,” muttered Avon, giving in and joining them on the couch.

“What was it, Cally?” Gan looked enquiringly at her.

“Could you lift a man’s body on top of a cupboard?” Gan thought about this; Cally held out a hand to indicate height. “It was above my head,” she added as she demonstrated.

“I think so,” said Gan. “Was this your dead man?”

“Yes.”

“Then he wouldn’t be struggling. I could do that if I had to, yes.”

“Do you think I could do it?” persisted Cally. Gan hesitated again, not wanting to give offence by giving the wrong answer. “Or someone smaller than I am?”

“It would certainly be very difficult,” Blake put in. Gan looked relieved at having the answer taken out of his hands; but he nodded agreement.

“I think you could move him, but not like that.”

“That is what I thought. I had not considered it until Vila asked about it. He thought Sara must have had help.”

“But you have no idea who from.” Blake looked thoughtful. He glanced at Avon, but he, too, shrugged.

“Vila is hoping that Sonheim is the culprit.” Cally gave a rueful smile. “That I do not believe; there is nothing to suggest it.”

“Then why...”

“I believe Sonheim’s inability to moderate his comments may have had something to do with it,” put in Avon. “Even the idiot can recognise an insult if it’s made plain enough.”

Blake frowned. “I’ll have a word with Sonheim,” he said grimly.

“Thereby drawing attention to our suspicions? Hardly a sensible plan, Blake.”

Blake looked as if he was about to argue, but Cally nodded.

“I think Avon is right. That would only cause more difficulties.”

“And we want to find out who her accomplice was,” agreed Gan.

“Preferably without being murdered ourselves,” Avon added. Seeing Blake’s look of protest, he went on, “Hadn’t you thought of that? They are still in a dangerous position. For the moment, they might believe themselves safe; as far as they are aware, we think the only guilty party has been apprehended and dealt with. The second you reveal otherwise, they are back on the defensive. If you wish to risk yourself prematurely, go ahead; but do not expect to drag the rest of us along with you.”

“All right.” Blake was prepared to admit the sense of Avon’s argument, although he clearly did not like the idea of sitting back and waiting. “Assuming you are right, and we have lulled them into a false sense of security... you say you still have absolutely no idea who this potential killer is.”

“Who is left?” said Cally.

“Dr Kendall, Levett, Pasco, Grovane,” answered Avon. “You have, after all, discounted Sonheim.”

“Well, do you think he could have done it?”

“No. But I have been wrong before.” Avon gave a half-smile, and added before Blake could comment, “Not very often, however.”

“It seems you were wrong here.” Blake couldn’t resist.

The smile disappeared. “Then I shall just have to correct my error.”

“How?” asked Gan.

“I am sure I will think of something.” From his tone, Avon was certain to do so, if only to erase the indignity of having been outwitted.

“And the neutrotope?” Cally reminded him. 

“Yes; we need to keep that safe.” Blake started to his feet; Avon gave him a look of satisfaction. 

“That,” he assured them, “I have already worked out how to take care of.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I am not sure about this.” Cally’s doubts were evident from her tone. Having been alongside Avon on the _Ortega_ , she had been included in his plan to secure the neutrotope; but he had not fully persuaded her that it would work as he hoped. She had accompanied him to the teleport section where they could work undisturbed, however, and now inspected the model he held out to her.

“You think it isn’t accurate enough?” Avon scrutinised his own handiwork for a moment, then looked inquiringly at Cally again. “Or do you think Blake won’t approve?”

“That was not what was worrying me. He agreed that the neutrotope should be kept safe, and we can hardly just move it without anyone noticing. This looks like a reasonable substitute.” She picked up their replica neutrotope, built with an assortment of parts Avon had produced. Cally had no idea of the origin of most of them; she assumed none of them would be easily missed. “But what if Vila can’t help? He didn’t seem quite like himself, earlier.”

“I suspect that can only be an improvement. We will manage.” Avon got to his feet; Cally followed him through the _Liberator’s_ brightly lit corridors, still looking doubtful. Reaching Vila’s cabin, Avon knocked on the door. There was no response. Frowning, he tried to open it.

“Locked,” he reported. “Obviously Vila is taking no chances.” He sounded faintly amused. 

“He is probably sleeping...” Cally was about to stop Avon trying again, but she was a fraction too slow. He knocked again, more insistently. This time, they got an answer.

“Who is it?” Vila sounded wary, but he was at least awake.

“Us,” replied Avon. “Now get up and open the door.”

“How do I know it’s you?”

“You’ll find out in a minute.”

There was a long pause; then the door opened fractionally. Vila peered blearily out at them.

“What do you want?” he asked peevishly. “I was asleep!” Spotting Cally, he gave her a look of reproach. “First you tell me to go to sleep because I’m not well, and now you’re here waking me up...”

“I’m sure you’ll recover, even so,” said Avon. “Now, are you going to let us in? Or is this a warning that we had better remain out of range, in case you repeat your earlier display?”

Vila held the door open, looking rather discomfited.

“What do you want?” he asked again, before adding defensively, “I said I wasn’t feeling very well, didn’t I; I couldn’t help it if nobody took any notice...”

“But we did,” Avon pointed out. “We had very little choice, as I recall, since you made your point so conclusively.” Vila relapsed into embarrassed silence; Avon went on, “We need you to do a job for us.”

“If you’re feeling better,” added Cally, pacifyingly, as Avon closed the door behind them.

“I don’t know that I am...”

“We need you to steal something,” Avon went on.

“Oh?” Interest began to fight with Vila’s natural caution; the look in his eye suggested he was reserving judgement about his speed of recovery until further details were provided.

“The neutrotope,” said Cally.

“What?” Vila was startled. “Now look... No. I’m not doing it.”

“Don’t tell me your scruples won’t allow it.” Avon gave him a disparaging look.

“My wanting not to get killed won’t allow it!”

“If you’re as good as you keep telling us, they won’t even know it’s gone.”

“I think we need to keep it safe, Vila,” explained Cally. If there is still someone who wants it for their own purposes, then we must keep it out of their hands until we reach Destiny.”

Vila swallowed; he backed off and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You mean... you think there is someone? Wonderful. We’ve imported a murderer. I think I feel sick again. Why is it, the one time you all agree with me, I really wish you didn’t?”

“I doubt they will be interested in you,” Cally reassured him.

“Not unless I go and steal their neutrotope, no! Why do I have to do it? It wasn’t my idea!”

“You have the necessary skills. I have planned it quite carefully. All you need to do is follow my instructions,” Avon informed him.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” he remarked in return. “I still don’t like it.”

“No one is asking you to like it. Just to do it.”

“It may help us catch the murderer, before he has a chance to kill anyone else,” said Cally persuasively. Vila wavered. 

“Including you,” Avon pointed out.

He sighed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Remove the neutrotope from its box. Dr Kendall has it, I believe, but as our visitors are all sleeping at the moment...”

“So was I,” complained Vila.

“You want to wait until he is awake to make the attempt?”

“I don’t want to make the attempt at all! Why can’t you do it, if you’re so worried? What’s the idea, anyway? Does Blake know?”

“Yes.”

Vila looked disappointed by the removal of this possible avenue of escape. “Assuming I can get the thing, then what?”

“You replace it with this.” Avon handed him the replica neutrotope he and Cally had been working on; it was not quite perfect, but good enough to convince a casual observer. Vila, not having seen the original, was confused.

“But...”

“It’s not real.” Avon gave him the sort of look usually reserved for a backward child. “But there is just the vaguest possibility that someone might possess sufficient intelligence- this time- to open the box and check on the contents, instead of assuming they are still there.”

“Like you did before?” inquired Vila innocently.

“Blake and Dr Kendall handled the box between them before,” Avon replied coldly.

“And Sara,” Cally reminded him.

“And Sara.” He started, as if the reminder had caused something else to occur to him. “Yes.” Turning back to Vila, he demanded, “Well? Is that clear enough?”

“Oh, yes.” Vila sighed again. “I suppose it’s no good telling you I still don’t feel well, and I’m bound to mess it all up?”

“Correct.”

“I thought so,” he agreed resignedly, before adding with sudden anxiety, “What if I do mess it up?”

“Then you will probably end up as the murderer’s next victim,” suggested Avon.

Vila paled. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It is supposed to make sure you don’t mess it up.”

“I’ll show you where Dr Kendall is sleeping,” offered Cally. “I asked Blake where everyone was.” Avon nodded.

“When you have the neutrotope, bring it to the flight deck,” he told them. “I will find somewhere safe to keep it.”

“All right.” Vila stood up reluctantly, stowing the fake neutrotope somewhere inside his tunic. “I just hope he doesn’t sleep with this box under his pillow, or something... I said I’d do it, didn’t I?” he protested hurriedly, seeing Avon about to comment. “I’m going!” He paused. “Cally, where am I going?”

“This way.” Cally led him out; Avon watched them go, but his mind was elsewhere as he made his own way back to the flight deck. Another clue, he suspected, had presented itself; all he had to do was make sense of it.


	4. Chapter 4

Cally stopped at a safe distance from Dr Kendall’s cabin, not wanting to risk waking him or any other light sleepers amongst his crew. The lights, thankfully, were dimmed in this particular corridor.

“That one,” she told Vila, pointing. He nodded, still looking nervous. “I will wait back there,” she indicated the direction they had come from, “Otherwise I will only risk being in your way.”

Vila’s expression clearly indicated that he thought being left alone with a potential murderer was a much bigger risk.

“Are you sure you don’t know which of them did it? Because if it’s him, I’d rather you came with me...”

“Go on.” Cally gave him a gentle push; he headed slowly for Dr Kendall’s cabin, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder until Cally was out of sight. Left alone, he reached cautiously for the door. The sound of gentle snoring from within reassured him slightly; he crept inside, shutting the door behind him, and stood holding it until his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Once he could make out vague shapes, he began to search for the neutrotope box, thankful that at least the _Liberator’s_ cabins all had a similar layout.

Dr Kendall, if he was particularly worried about the neutrotope, had done a poor job of securing it. Vila found the box on the bedside table. He stretched out a hand towards it, then froze, holding his breath, as the sound of snoring stopped. He was just wondering if he was going to expire from lack of oxygen when Dr Kendall gave a sudden explosive snort, followed by a return to his original snoring. Recovering from his fright at the unexpected noise, Vila reached hurriedly for the box again. He opened it easily enough, swapping the fake neutrotope for the real one without stopping to compare them; if Avon was satisfied, that was enough. Vila, for his part, wanted nothing more than to get out of the cabin as quickly as possible now that he had what he had come for. Closing the box, he headed for the door and the relative safety of the corridor.

Caution made him glance in both directions as he left the cabin. He had not expected to see anyone; when he did, he almost froze again. The figure in the corridor was not Cally; for one thing, it was coming from the wrong direction. 

“Hello!” Vila recognised Pasco’s voice; realising he had been spotted, he did the only thing possible, and returned the greeting, while trying to surreptitiously get the neutrotope out of sight. 

“Hello,” he said faintly, hoping he at least hadn’t been seen coming out of Dr Kendall’s cabin. 

“Feeling better?” From Pasco’s tone, the question was asked in all innocence; but Vila still squirmed. It did, at least, give him an opening for explaining his presence in the corridor.

“Yes... well... sort of... not really.” He gave a sickly smile. “I was just... the medical unit’s along here.” He pointed vaguely. “I’m still feeling a bit sick...” That wasn’t entirely a lie, he decided; Pasco’s curious glance seemed as if it would alight on the neutrotope hidden up his sleeve at any moment. Holding it there was beginning to make his wrist hurt; he prayed it wouldn’t slip before he could get away.

“You don’t look too good. You’d better be careful.” Again, it sounded innocent enough; but Vila was too aware of the possibility that Pasco could be their man to take the warning at face value. He nodded, sweating, then stifled a squeak of alarm as he felt the neutrotope move. Pasco looked oddly at him; gathering his wits, he clamped his arm against his front and groaned as convincingly as he could.

“It hurts,” he elaborated, wriggling the neutrotope into a safer position under the pretence of rubbing his stomach. “I’ve had this terrible pain all evening...”

“Perhaps you’ve caught something.”

“I think I must have.” He tried not to think about the possibility that what he had caught was a murderer; after all, Pasco was heading in the direction of Dr Kendall’s cabin. If he, too, was looking for the neutrotope... Vila pressed the debated item more firmly against himself to stop it slipping again, and winced as he discovered its corners were sharper than they looked.

“Should I come along to the medical unit with you?” Pasco offered, catching his expression and apparently taking it for further evidence of some mystery illness.

“No!” Aware that that sounded unnecessarily desperate, he added, “Thanks, but I’ll manage. Wouldn’t like to give you anything nasty.” He grinned weakly; Pasco hesitated, then smiled.

“All right; if you’re sure.”

Vila could hardly contain his relief. He made his escape as quickly as he dared, breaking into a run as soon as he was safely out of sight. He only stopped when Cally, waiting as promised, stepped out from round a corner.

Vila yelled.

“What...” Cally looked bewildered by his reaction; pulling himself together, he glared reproachfully at her.

“You gave me a fright!”

“I’m sorry,” she apologised. “Did you get it?”

“Yes, I got it,” he confirmed irritably. “I thought it was going to be the last thing I ever did get!” He carried on towards the flight deck, determined to deliver the neutrotope to Avon at the earliest possible opportunity.

“What do you mean?”

“I came out and Pasco was there, lurking in the corridor!”

“What? Did he see you?”

“Of course he saw me!” Vila was still flustered; Cally decided to wait until he had calmed down to ask any more questions. She kept up with him until they reached the flight deck. Jenna was there with Avon, checking their course; she glanced up as the others came in. Wordlessly, Vila marched over to Avon, thrust the neutrotope into his hand, and then finally collapsed on to the couch.

“What happened?” asked Cally, while Avon and Jenna were still looking startled.

“I got the thing,” said Vila, “And I was just about to bring it back here when I saw Pasco in the corridor...”

“Did he see you?” interrupted Avon sharply. Vila nodded.

“I don’t think he saw where I’d come from,” he offered. “He didn’t say anything. At least, he said hello, and asked if I was feeling all right...” He shuddered at the memory.

“I’m surprised he dared to ask,” said Jenna. “Knowing you, you would tell him if you weren’t. At great length.”

“I had to tell him something! He’d have wondered why I was there, otherwise. I told him I was on the way to the medical unit, because I wasn’t feeling well. Anyway,” said Vila, disgruntled, “At least he _asked_.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “Are you feeling all right, Vila?” she asked with mock contrition.

“I’m not sure.”

“You needn’t let us know when you’ve made up your mind,” replied Avon. “I had better put this somewhere safe.” He studied the neutrotope for a moment, thinking; Jenna, too, came to look at it.

“It doesn’t look much,” she observed.

“But four people are dead because of it. So far.”

Vila shuddered again. “Do you think it was Pasco? He was going in the direction of Dr Kendall’s cabin.”

“Possibly.”

“What was he doing wandering about if he wasn’t looking for that thing? Mind you,” said Vila thoughtfully, “He’d have found it easily enough. It was just sitting on the bedside table for anyone to pick up. Not hidden, or anything.”

“Dr Kendall probably thinks it’s safe now,” suggested Jenna.

“Or he wants it within easy reach for some reason,” Avon put in. “This really is not narrowing down our list of suspects.”

“Maybe they’re all in on it.” Jenna, having been brought up to date by Avon while they were waiting, was clearly as keen on solving the mystery as everyone else.

“A conspiracy theory,” said Avon, unconvinced. “Well, that would be something.”

“It is possible,” Cally agreed doubtfully.

“A lot of things are possible. In the meantime, Vila, if you have just told a potential murderer you were on your way to the medical unit, I suggest you go there. He might get suspicious and come to check on you.”

“Oh.” Vila’s eyes widened at this unpleasant thought. “I hope not. Maybe one of you ought to come too.”

“You think so?”

“I will go,” offered Cally, seeing Vila about to argue. He subsided, appeased; Avon smiled faintly, but made no objection. “You need to hide the neutrotope,” Cally went on. “And Jenna should stay here.” She looked serious. “There could be another reason for someone wandering. Jenna, you are the most likely to notice if anything is attempted with the flight controls.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Do you think they’re likely to try a trick like that?” Jenna asked, looking again at the neutrotope Avon was holding. “I’m beginning to think that thing’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“They might. They are hardly likely to realise our auto-repair systems would compensate for any damage to the ship rather more quickly than Cally and I were able to repair theirs.”

“We would still be vulnerable to any Federation ships in the area in the meantime.”

“Are there any?” Jenna shrugged; Avon glanced across the flight deck. “Zen?”

+Negative.+

“Well, that’s something to be thankful for,” said Jenna.

“It is unlikely they will try, anyway,” said Avon thoughtfully. “At the moment they do not want to draw attention to themselves. Sabotaging the ship would do exactly that, and it would serve no other useful purpose. The _Ortega_ had its flight controls damaged to ensure it made the rendezvous with the other ship. I doubt whoever was on board that- not that we have any idea who that was, thanks to Blake...”

“I suppose you would have left them to get away with it?”

“Get away with what, exactly? We have the neutrotope here,” Avon pointed out coolly. “What their plan might have been was never my concern; although we now seem to be concerned whether we like it or not. I still doubt they have the resource to make a second attempt.”

“Then why bother swapping it for your fake one?” Jenna looked at him narrowly, her suspicions obvious. 

“What is to stop our killer from taking it, disposing of one of us to allow that person to take the blame, and then selling the neutrotope from Destiny itself?”

“They could still do that with the fake.”

“Then we had all better look out.” Avon got up, still weighing the neutrotope in his hand. “In the meantime, I will find somewhere to put this.”

.....................................................................................................................................

Cally and Vila had seen no sign of anyone on the way to the medical unit; the unit itself was deserted. If anyone had looked in to check on Vila’s supposed presence, they had gone straight away again.

“How long do we have to stay here?” he asked, looking round without enthusiasm.

“I wasn’t thinking of staying,” Cally replied. “I thought I would go and check if anyone was wandering about where they shouldn’t be.”

“You can’t do that!” said Vila in alarm. “What about me?”

“Is there anything wrong with you now?”

“Does being afraid I’m about to be murdered count?” he inquired.

“No,” Cally told him.

“Oh. Well, I suppose not, then.”

“Then you don’t need me here.”

“But what if he comes?” Vila still looked unhappy with her plan. “What am I supposed to do?”

“There’s no reason for you to do anything. As long as your story is believed, you should be in no danger.”

“Should. That’s the bit I don’t like.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Cally left before Vila could think of an answer to that. She was uncertain what she was hoping to find; but the possibility that a clue was being presented to them was too strong to ignore.

She headed for the control rooms to start with, still worried that someone might try to cause damage there. She had not gone very far before she saw a figure in the corridor ahead of her; but she recognised it at once.

“Avon!” He turned as he heard his name, then stopped and waited.

“You thought you would check too?” he inquired.

“Yes. Have you seen anyone?”

“Besides yourself, no.”

Cally relaxed slightly. “Maybe I was wrong. After all, why should they want to sabotage our ship? They have no way of getting a message to anyone, even if they have anyone left to contact.”

“I was just saying much the same thing to Jenna.”

“Then why...”

“I’d like to be sure.” They walked on together, alert for any sign of movement; but there was nothing to be seen. Reaching the control room, Avon checked it carefully; then he turned back to Cally, waiting patiently behind him, and shook his head. “Nothing.”

Her relief was evident; but she still seemed puzzled.

“Then what was Pasco doing?”

“How should I know? Perhaps he couldn’t sleep,” Avon suggested.

“Perhaps.” Cally did not look entirely convinced, but she said no more. They returned to the flight deck in silence, drawn there through force of habit. Jenna was still there, alone; she left the controls as they came in and took a more comfortable seat on the couch.

“I haven’t noticed anything strange happening while you’ve been away,” she said, pre-empting the question. “We’re still on course for Destiny, and Zen reports all systems are functioning as normal.”

Avon and Cally joined her on the seat.

“Good,” Avon returned. “We’ve just checked the control room; there was no sign of anything there, either.”

“So our murderer is lying low,” observed Jenna.

“I suppose it is their most sensible option, for the moment.” Cally looked as thoughtful as ever. “But it doesn’t help us to work out who it is.”

“No,” agreed Avon. “Something needs to happen before we can get any closer to the answer.”

“You said something similar back there. On the _Ortega_.”

“So I did.”

“What are you suggesting?” asked Jenna. “Another body?”

“Maybe. Although I hope not.”

“How reassuring,” Jenna said, with some sarcasm. Avon eyed her speculatively.

“I doubt you will head the list of prospective victims. We know now that nothing has been attempted with the ship’s controls; if we take that alongside the fact that Blake destroyed the other ship alongside the _Ortega_ , presumably removing any chance of outside help, it would suggest that it is not to their advantage to be left aboard a drifting ship with no pilot. For the moment, at least.”

“Then they may do nothing until we reach Destiny,” Cally pointed out. “They will hardly want to be detected.”

“We would know if they tried to send a message.” Jenna was thinking out loud. “Zen monitors communications; and there have been no outbound messages not sent by ourselves. Have there?”

+Confirmed.+

“No sabotage attempts, no messages; no anything.” Jenna went on. 

“If they feel they are safe they have no reason to do anything,” replied Cally. They paused for a moment, thinking; then Avon broke the silence.

“Then perhaps we will have to give them a reason, after all.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Then I hope you’re volunteering,” said Jenna, looking thoroughly unimpressed by the idea of antagonising someone who had already been prepared to kill. Cally, too, looked doubtful.

“What exactly are you suggesting?” she asked.

“It would have to be done very carefully,” Avon admitted. “I will need to think about it.” He got up as if to go and do exactly that. “But first, I intend to get some sleep. I don’t know about the rest of you.”

“Do you have any idea what he’s planning?” Jenna turned to Cally as Avon left them.

“None.”

They were none the wiser by the time everyone began to reconvene on the flight deck the following morning. Avon, if he had come up with a plan, did not seem inclined to share it. Nor did he make any immediate rejoinder when Blake appeared, and queried,

“Anything to report?”

“Nothing,” answered Jenna.

“Nothing at all?” Blake glanced across at Avon, who shrugged.

“It would seem not.”

“Maybe nothing will happen,” suggested Gan.

“It already has,” said Avon. “On board the _Ortega_. We wouldn’t be in this position, otherwise.”

“I meant while they’re here.” Gan sat down and waited, seeing that Blake was not about to leave the subject alone.

“If Sara did have an accomplice, we need to know who it is. We can’t just leave them to go free after they’ve been involved in committing a murder.”

“I am rather more concerned with what they might do now than what they have already done,” retorted Avon. “I’m sure they are perfectly capable of dispensing justice on Destiny. I would just like to remain alive long enough to get there.”

“But you want to find out who the person is,” Cally reproached him.

“It would seem a pity to leave the mystery half-solved,” he admitted, before giving Blake a quizzical glance. “Something did occur to me. The safe in Dr Kendall’s quarters. Presumably only he had access to it?”

“That’s what he told me,” agreed Blake.

“But he sent Sara to fetch the neutrotope when you offered to take it to Destiny.”

“Yes.” Blake frowned. “I hadn’t thought, but now that you mention it...” He was about to go on, but stopped abruptly as the man in question appeared in the doorway. Judging by the speed of his arrival, something was bothering Dr Kendall; and his crew, close on his heels, seemed equally perturbed. Blake gave them a look of curious surprise. “Is something the matter?”

“The neutrotope,” explained Dr Kendall. “It’s gone.”

“Again?” Avon’s one-word comment was expressive.

“I can't understand it..."

"Sit down," offered Gan, standing up himself to make room on the couch for the new arrivals. Dr Kendall appeared not to hear him, but Levett and Grovane accepted the offer thankfully enough. Sonheim and Pasco remained standing, the one scowling, the other looking faintly uncomfortable.

"What happened?" Blake asked. 

"I opened the box, to check on it; not that I was expecting anything to have happened, but... it was empty."

Avon and Cally exchanged glances.

_Wait_.

Avon acknowledged the silent warning with a faint nod; he glanced at Jenna, but her attention was fixed on the _Ortega's_ crew for the moment.

"None of us could have taken it," stated Sonheim bluntly. His meaning was obvious; Blake bristled.

"If you're suggesting..."

"I'm not suggesting." Sonheim ignored Dr Kendall's attempt to shush him, and carried on. "We couldn't have done it, and the only other people on board are you and your crew. Everyone's agreed on that..."

"We didn't actually..." began Grovane, as Levett said coolly,

"Are we?"

Blake made an effort to remain reasonable.

"I see this must be difficult for you all, but I can assure you if you think any of my crew have anything to do with this you're mistaken." Deliberately aiming the question at Dr Kendall rather than the others, he added, "I expect you've already questioned your own people to see if they know anything?"

"Yes."

"Then you're quite welcome to question mine next. I doubt they'll be able to tell you anything; but if it helps put your mind at rest..." He swept a hand round the flight deck, indicating that they might as well begin at once.

"You have a man missing," pointed out Levett.

Blake looked surprised; then he frowned. "Vila. Where is he?"

Nobody answered at first. Blake waited impatiently, looking round at the others for a reply; but their faces remained blank.

"Perhaps we should check the escape pods," suggested Avon sardonically.

This time Jenna did not miss his glance in her direction; and she remembered their conversation of the previous evening.

"That's not funny," she said sharply. "Hasn't anyone seen him?"

Cally slowly shook her head; Gan looked puzzled.

"Didn't someone say he was a thief?" queried Sonheim. "How convenient..." Pasco grasped him by the elbow before he could say any more.

"That won't help..."

"Rather too convenient." Avon was dismissive. 

_Avon. Is this part of your plan_? Cally's expression did not change, but Avon heard the worry in her message.

"No," he said shortly. Blake, realising a conversation was taking place that nobody else could hear, let his suspicion show.

"If you have any idea where he is..."

"None whatsoever," Avon assured him. "Although I am quite certain that he is _not_ with the neutrotope, if that is of any help."

"He might just have slept in," said Gan, sounding almost hopeful. "If he was feeling ill again..."

Blake glanced at Cally. "Did you check on him?"

"Yes. He seemed well enough when I last checked," she answered truthfully. "But it is possible, I suppose..." She waited to see if Pasco would mention his meeting with Vila the previous night, realising her statement might surprise him after Vila's excuse for having been where he was; but he remained silent, although he looked as if he was trying to conceal his worry about something.

"There's an easy way to find out." Jenna leant over from her position and flipped the communicator switch. "Vila! Are you there?" There was no reply; she looked across at Blake. "That answers that. He's not in his cabin. Or if he is, he's not responding."

"Then we had better find out which it is," said Blake grimly. "Either way, I want him found. And quickly."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With deepest apologies for my prolonged absence- life has been a little distracting of late. Although it’s probably quite distracting on board the Liberator at the moment, too...

Vila was not in his cabin.

Vila was not in the medical unit.

Vila was not, so far as anyone could discover, anywhere on board.

Dr Kendall had tactfully withdrawn his crew to the recreation room once more, leaving the flight deck clear for Blake to coordinate the search. After two failed attempts Blake had given up on coordination and joined the search himself; after the third, he came back looking more serious than ever. 

“Nothing?” he asked, seeing that Jenna, Avon and Gan had returned before him.

“Nothing,” said Jenna. “There’s no sign of him.”

“Zen, can you identify any reason why Vila might not be responding to us?”

+All humanoid life aboard this ship is functioning normally.+

“Aboard this ship?” repeated Blake.

+Confirmed.+

“That doesn’t help much,” remarked Gan.

“Doesn’t it?” said Avon.

“Well, he can’t have gone anywhere else, can he?” Blake was losing patience.

“The teleport system hasn’t been operated.” Avon’s comment stopped short of agreement.

“And the escape pods are all intact.” Jenna stared at the controls; each of them were only too aware of the third, unspoken route off the _Liberator_.

“So he is on board,” said Blake firmly. Nobody argued; but nobody agreed. They were still standing in silence when Cally walked in. She answered Blake’s hopeful glance with a shake of her head.

“But damn it, he can’t just have disappeared!” he exploded.

“Dr Kendall says none of his crew have seen him.”

“Then I imagine at least one of them is lying,” observed Avon. 

“What do you mean?”

“All humanoid _life_ , Blake. Face it. We know we have a killer on board. The chances are...” He left the sentence unfinished. 

“We’d better find out who it is, then, hadn’t we?” Blake’s anger was all too apparent; he walked out before anyone could stop him, clearly intending to try and force the matter.

“You don’t really think he’s dead, do you?” queried Gan.

“Probability would suggest that is the case. Can you think of another explanation?”

Gan said nothing, but sat down wearily; Jenna joined him, while Cally remained standing, looking puzzled.

“I don’t understand... what did you mean, ‘all humanoid life’, Avon?”

“Zen says all humanoid life aboard the _Liberator_ is behaving normally,” explained Jenna, seeing that Avon appeared to be lost in thought.

“Which admittedly is a relative term when applied to some of us,” remarked Avon, without a change of expression. Jenna opened her mouth to retort; before she could speak, however, Avon carried on, “Although it could also be relative in terms of circumstances. Zen requires specifics... Zen. Is Vila on board this ship?”

+Confirmed+.

“Alive?”

+Confirmed+.

Avon gave a satisfied smile. “Then we are further forward than we were before.”

“Couldn’t you have done that before?” demanded Cally. “You said this wasn’t part of your plan.”

“It isn’t.”

“But if he’s alive and not answering us, he must be in some sort of trouble,” observed Gan.

“If he isn’t, he will be.” Jenna did not sound impressed.

“Undoubtedly,” agreed Avon. “Because I think Blake has just gone to accuse our guests of his murder.”

.....................................................................................................................................

The crew of the _Ortega_ looked up as one when Blake walked in to confront them; it was obvious from his expression that the search had been unsuccessful.

“There’s no sign of him anywhere,” he announced.

“Or the neutrotope,” murmured Sonheim, not quite quietly enough.

“The neutrotope can wait! It’s hardly likely to have gone far, after all. At the moment I’m more concerned with what’s happened to a member of my crew. If any of you have anything you’d like to add that might help us find him, please feel free to let me know.” Blake’s civility was clearly under strain; there were a few head shakes and murmurs, but thankfully nobody dared repeat the suggestion that Vila had disappeared in the company of the neutrotope.

“We’ve none of us seen him. I’m sorry,” said Dr Kendall simply.

“Someone must have, because he hasn’t left the _Liberator_. He has no reason to hide from us; so something- or someone- is obviously stopping him from being found.”

“Why should it be any of us?” queried Levett. “Accidents do happen.”

“At the same time as your neutrotope goes missing again? I think that’s stretching coincidence a little too far, don’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, Blake went on abruptly, “Do you think Sara was working on her own?”

His audience was speechless for a moment; then Dr Kendall said hesitantly,

“Do you mean... you think one of us is responsible for his disappearance?”

“Can you think of another explanation?”

“We’ve already given you one,” snarled Sonheim.

“Which I refuse to accept. There have already been three deaths on board your ship; now the neutrotope is missing again and one of my crew has disappeared. I’m asking you again; has anybody seen him?”

There was a chorus of outraged denial, Pasco’s ‘no’ coming a fraction behind the others’. He looked awkward rather than angry, but Blake had no chance to comment on the fact. 

“Blake.” He turned as Avon entered.

“Have you found him?”

“No.”

“You don’t really think he’s dead, do you?” Grovane asked, glancing between Blake and Avon. Avon said nothing; Blake answered,

“I hope not.”

“Because Sara admitted to killing the others; it must have been her, mustn’t it? She was the one who’d planned to sell the neutrotope...”

“Which is missing again,” pointed out Avon. “Someone obviously thought her idea had some merit.”

“I don’t understand.” Dr Kendall drooped wearily. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I’m quite certain none of us have anything to do with it.”

“Well, that is reassuring,” said Avon. “Given your previous judgement of your crew... I seem to recall it was Sara you asked to fetch the neutrotope on board the Ortega. Not, perhaps, the best choice.” Seeing Blake move as if he was about to speak, Avon went on swiftly, “A word, Blake?” Nobody moved. “In private?”

“Oh! Yes.” Blake, still looking as if he was trying to fit a thought into place, followed him out. “What is it?”

“Something occurred to you just then. Am I right?”

“Yes... I’m trying to make sense of it.”

“Then I suggest you don’t do so in front of our suspects.”

“Do you know something about all this?” Blake looked suspicious.

“Possibly.”

“What do you mean, possibly?”

“I don’t think anyone is in possession of the full picture,” admitted Avon, “Including them.” He gestured in the direction of the recreation room. “But I think Vila is safe, wherever he is. For now.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Now what did you mean, you think Vila is safe for now?” asked Blake, as he and Avon returned to the flight deck. 

“Exactly that. Zen says he is alive. We have no reason to doubt Zen.”

“Zen says... he didn’t say it to me!”

“You didn’t ask.”

Blake looked as if he was about to argue the point, then thought better of it. “So where is he, then?” he said.

“That I don’t know; and it might be better if we don’t investigate too closely.” Seeing that Blake was not the only one to look puzzled by this statement, Avon sat down and waited until he had everyone’s full attention before explaining. “There are two possible reasons for his disappearance. One is that he has gone into hiding for his own ends, in which case he is no doubt safe...”

“Except from us,” put in Jenna. Avon smiled.

“Quite. The other is that someone else is keeping him out of the way. If they are under the impression that we believe he is dead already, then they have less reason to make sure that is in fact the case. In those circumstances, he will be safer if we appear to have given up on our search.”

“You mean... just leave him?” Gan clearly didn’t like the idea.

“For the moment, yes.” Avon dismissed the protest. “We would be better concentrated on trying to discover exactly who our murderer is. What exactly occurred to you back there, Blake?”

For once, Blake was too stunned to object to Avon taking the lead.

“Dr Kendall was the only one with access to the safe on board the _Ortega_.”

“We have already established that.”

“Wait!” Some of Blake’s usual manner was beginning to return. “The crew must have known that. So why did none of them find it strange that he asked Sara to go for the neutrotope? Not one of them said anything. I only realised when they gave the same reaction just now. They accepted it, as if it was normal.”

“You think he was lying to you?” said Cally.

“I don’t see how I can think anything else.”

“So Dr Kendall might be responsible for the theft of the neutrotope. The _fake_ neutrotope.” Jenna sounded thoughtful.

“It’s a possibility.” Avon was unconvinced, judging by his tone. “But it doesn’t fit.”

“What do you mean?” 

He ignored the question, thinking; Blake began to pace the flight deck, then sank onto the couch himself in defeat.

“You have still got the real thing safe?” he asked suddenly.

“Yes.” Avon was still working something out, from the sound of his distracted reply. He added, more definitely, “If anyone was going to recognise the fake as a fake, you would think it would be Dr Kendall. He must have had the most opportunity to handle the real neutrotope, after all.”

“But your fake is quite convincing,” Cally argued.

“Even so... I don’t think it was him. At least, I don’t think it was him who took the neutrotope this time.”

Blake sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a headache. “Avon, if you think you know what’s going on, just tell us. There’s enough mystery here without you trying to add to it.”

Avon looked coldly at him. “Very well. If you want it in terms you are able to understand, it is possible that Dr Kendall might have been involved in the initial plan to steal the neutrotope, but I do not believe he carried out the actual theft. He provided Sara with the opportunity the first time; and Vila told us that last night, the box had been left within easy reach again. Possibly for an _expected_ thief?”

There was silence for a moment at this reminder of their own, missing, thief; then Blake admitted,

“Assuming you’re right, have you any idea who he was expecting?”

“Pasco was up and about; Sonheim seemed suspiciously eager to blame Vila for the theft...” Avon shrugged. “It would seem to put one or other of them at the top of the list.”

“But you don’t think Sonheim committed the murders,” Cally reminded him.

“No.”

“Well, it all seems rather complicated to me,” remarked Gan.

“No doubt to you, it would,” agreed Avon, getting to his feet. “There is no point in sitting here speculating, anyway. I seem to recall one of the linkages in sub-control room 4 needs attention.” He left without a backward glance; the others exchanged looks, but said nothing. Jenna returned to her usual position at the controls.

“We’re still on course,” she observed. “We haven’t that far to go, now.”

“Far enough to find out what’s going on,” returned Blake. “I’m going to ask Dr Kendall about that safe of his. Something doesn’t add up. You two,” he looked at Gan and Cally, “Carry on looking for Vila. But try not to look as if that’s what you’re doing. Avon may be right about what’s happened to him, but that’s no reason for us to give up on him altogether.”

They looked relieved, both indicating immediate agreement.

“We’ll split up,” said Cally. “Gan, you could check the holds, couldn’t you?”

“There’s plenty of things I could be looking for down there,” he agreed.

“And I’ll check anywhere else I can think of.”

“He has to be somewhere,” said Blake.

Cally was aware of the logic of the statement, but as she began her surreptitious search, she was also aware that ‘somewhere’ on a ship the size of the _Liberator_ could take a lot of finding, even without having to avoid drawing the interest of a killer. Lost in thought as she walked through the corridors, she jumped as a voice suddenly hailed her from behind.

“Are you on your own? Look, I was hoping I could talk to you...”

Cally turned, to see Pasco regarding her with a worried expression.

“I am alone,” she confirmed. He looked relieved.

“I didn’t want to cause trouble. It’s just... your friend who’s missing. Vila. I did see him, last night...”

“Oh?” Cally tried to sound surprised.

“I should have said something earlier. He told me he was on his way to the medical unit; said he was still feeling a bit off. I offered to go with him, because he did look like there was something wrong, but he said not to. And I’m wondering now if I should have anyway, because if he was really ill, he might have had an accident, or something.” Pasco met Cally’s eyes guiltily. “I should have told you, but I didn’t want to set Sonheim going again...”

“He seems very eager to believe Vila took the neutrotope.”

“He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just like that.”

“Blake was very angry...”

“I could see that.” Pasco looked unhappier than ever. “That’s why I thought I’d better pick my moment to say anything about meeting Vila. He was in our corridor, after all.”

“But you don’t think he took the neutrotope?” asked Cally.

“No. Why should he? Anyway, he looked as if it was the last thing on his mind.”

“Then who do you think it was?”

“I don’t know!” Pasco sighed. “I’m beginning to wish I’d stayed on Destiny.”

Cally looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “Have you told anyone else about seeing Vila?”

“No. Why?”

“In case he hasn’t had an accident.”

Pasco stared. “You don’t think...” He gave a desperate half-laugh. “It wasn’t me.”

“Do you think Sonheim might have something to do with it?” Cally asked him. He looked surprised by the change of tack, but answered after a moment,

“No. I know he says things, but... no. And if you’re going to ask me about the others, I’d have said none of them were capable... but I’d have said the same about Sara. And I thought Levett was the hardest to read, of all of us!”

Cally, afraid of questioning too far, merely nodded. “If you do think of anything, you will let us know? And thank you for telling me about Vila.”

“I hope it helps.” Pasco let her go, looking as if he was left wondering about every one of his own crewmates, while Cally walked away furiously processing thoughts of her own. Pasco had seemed helpful, but... Feeling she should discuss things with one of the others, she headed back towards the flight deck.


	9. Chapter 9

Blake lost no time in going to question Dr Kendall, although he had, thankfully, calmed down a little on hearing that Vila was at least alive. This had not stopped the rest of the _Ortega’s_ crew from showing distinct signs of relief when Dr Kendall had indicated that there was no need for them to stay for the discussion. Blake let them go; it might, after all, be better to tackle them one at a time. He waited until he and Dr Kendall were alone, then asked abruptly,

“Why did you send Sara to collect the neutrotope?”

Dr Kendall seemed too tired to be surprised by the question. He rubbed his hands over his face, and sighed.

“I suppose she was nearest.”

“But you said yourself that you were the only person on board with access to the safe. Surely she shouldn’t have been able to get to it.”

“No.” Dr Kendall looked wearier than ever. “I hadn’t locked the safe.”

“You what?”

“I hadn’t locked it,” he repeated. “There didn’t seem to be any point; I thought it was a false alarm.”

Blake stared at him in disbelief.

“Were you in the habit of not locking it?” he asked eventually.

“How did you guess?”

“None of your crew seemed particularly surprised when you asked Sara to fetch the neutrotope. I wondered about that, because they must surely have known she couldn’t have access.”

“It seemed so ridiculous. If anyone had taken it, where could they have gone? And I trusted them...”

“All of them?”

“Yes!” The answer was almost too quick; then Dr Kendall sighed. “Obviously I was mistaken.”

“I think we’ve already proved that,” said Blake. “So; is there anyone in particular who’s made you change your mind?”

.....................................................................................................................................

Jenna was still at the controls when Cally returned; but seeing Cally’s expression, she abandoned their course to Zen’s automatics and asked,

“What is it? You haven’t found Vila.”

Cally shook her head. “I’ve just been talking to Pasco. He came to tell me that he’d seen Vila last night.”

“Did you tell him we knew that already?”

“No. I thought I had better not.”

“No,” agreed Jenna. She frowned. “Did he tell you what he was doing up himself?”

“He didn’t mention it. I didn’t ask. Do you think I should have done?”

“I don’t know.”

“He seemed as if he was trying to be helpful.” Cally looked troubled. “He said perhaps Vila had had an accident. It is difficult to know what to think... and he seemed genuinely shocked when I suggested that whatever has happened might not have been accidental.”

“You don’t think he was trying to put us off the scent? Why should he think Vila had had an accident?”

“He thought he was ill.”

“I suppose you didn’t correct him about that, either?”

“I thought it was better not to.”

“You’re probably right.” Jenna was about to say something else, but she was interrupted by the breathless entrance of one of the _Ortega’s_ crew.

“Have you seen Dr Kendall?” panted Grovane.

“I think Blake had gone to talk to him,” answered Cally. “What’s the matter?”

“We’ve found the neutrotope!”

Cally and Jenna exchanged glances, wondering whether the real one, by mischance, had been found.

“Where?” asked Cally.

“In Pasco’s cabin. He must have stolen it. And we can’t find him, either!”

Jenna looked at Cally again.

_Avon would not have hidden it there. They have found the fake._

“We’d better start looking, then,” said Jenna, out loud. Grovane looked slightly calmer at this suggestion; he watched as she leant towards the communicator. “Avon, we need you back here.”

“What for?” came the irritated reply. “I’m busy.”

“We’ve got another missing person,” Jenna explained. “From the _Ortega_ , this time. And we’ve found the neutrotope.” There was a pause; then a reluctant,

“Very well.”

They prepared to wait, but Avon reappeared remarkably swiftly, obviously more curious than he cared to admit. “Who have we lost now?” he queried.

“We’ve found the neutrotope in Pasco’s cabin,” said Grovane, before anyone else could get a word in edgeways, “But we can’t find him, and I came to fetch Dr Kendall while the others were looking for him, but I haven’t found him, either...”

“Blake was intending to speak to Dr Kendall, so I hardly think you need worry about him.” Avon’s response suggested that he thought any interrogation Blake had been carrying out would have been long and tedious, but he glanced at the others to see if they would contradict him.

“I was speaking to Pasco not so very long ago,” added Cally. “I find it difficult to believe that he has completely disappeared in such a short space of time.”

“It was difficult to believe that Vila has completely disappeared,” pointed out Avon. “Yet nobody seems to have found him. Even so, it seems strange that Pasco should vanish without the neutrotope, which presumably you believe he had stolen.”

“Why else should it be in his cabin?” protested Grovane.

“Why indeed?”

“We should fetch Blake- and Dr Kendall,” said Jenna, before this argument could be pursued. “Apart from anything else, the more people we have to join in the search, the better.”

“I will come with you,” offered Cally.

“That would probably be a good idea,” agreed Avon. “We don’t want anyone else to disappear.” Jenna gave him a sharp look, but his face gave nothing away. She gave a short nod, and walked out with Cally.

“I don’t think he’s even looked for Dr Kendall,” she observed, once they were out of hearing.

“Grovane? Perhaps not.” Cally was still looking puzzled. “I thought something was not right before, but now I am sure of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Surely either Pasco is the thief, or he has disappeared. Not both.”

“He might have realised he had been discovered and tried to hide.”

“Then why come to me about Vila? Anyway,” Cally’s frown deepened, “He told me where he had met Vila. In their corridor...”

“If he took the neutrotope, he would hardly have wanted to incriminate himself like that.” Jenna caught on at once. “You think something’s happened to him?”

“I’m afraid it might have.”

They quickened their pace, hoping to find Blake, at least, still in the recreation room; but as they passed over the hatch to the maintenance channels, Jenna almost tripped.

“What happened?” Cally waited for her as she regained her balance.

“I don’t know. I lost my footing. As if the floor moved slightly.” She glared at the corridor flooring, which remained perfectly still.

Cally, however, looked at the hatch cover oddly. “There is someone there.”

“Who?” Jenna, too, stared at it. “Are you sure?”

Cally nodded. “I’m certain.” She moved to lift the cover; Jenna joined her, dragging it clear. They were just peering into the opening when a voice came out of the darkness below.

“I thought nobody was ever coming! Get me out of here, will you?”


	10. Chapter 10

“Vila!” Cally stared down at the figure now dimly visible underneath the hatch; he looked back at her with something approaching desperation.

“Help me out, will you?” he asked. “I think my fingers are broken!”

“You’re lucky it’s only your fingers,” retorted Jenna, reaching down with Cally to pull him out of the inspection channel. “Wait until Blake finds out where you’ve been hiding.” Vila looked ruefully at their outstretched hands.

“And I’ve done something to my ankle...”

“Get out of the way, then,” said Jenna, realising someone was going to have to climb down to rescue him. She started to make her way down the ladder. “Let’s hope you haven’t broken that, as well, or getting you out’s going to be interesting.” 

“That’s not the word I’d have used.” Even allowing for the strange illumination of the tunnel’s red lights, Vila was looking peculiar; Jenna decided explanations could wait.

“We’ll manage,” she said grimly. “Can you stand? At all?” Between Vila’s own efforts and her help, they managed to get him on to one leg. The other foot he kept stubbornly off the ground. “You’re going to need both feet for the ladder.”

“I know that! Why do you think I’m still down here?”

“I didn’t like to ask. You do realise we’ve all been tearing the ship apart looking for you?”

“Well, you didn’t do a very good job of it, did you?” The initial relief of being found was obviously beginning to wear off. Jenna, realising that she might have been a little irritable herself if the positions had been reversed, let the complaint go.

“If you can’t put any weight on it at all, you’ll have to wait here while we go and get help,” she warned, concentrating on the more immediate problem. 

“It isn’t far to climb,” called Cally encouragingly.

“It is with one hand and one foot!” Vila tried to haul himself on to the first rung anyway; clearly the idea of being left in the maintenance channel any longer was enough to spur him to desperate measures. Jenna steadied him; Cally reached down, ready to grab him as soon as he was within reach. “I can’t do it!” He flailed wildly as he attempted the second rung; Jenna caught him just in time, pinning him to the ladder.

“Cally, go and get someone to help,” she requested, then hurriedly added, “Not Avon. I don’t think we should leave the flight deck unattended.”

“All right.” Cally disappeared from view. Gently, Jenna let Vila down from the ladder; he slumped at her feet, looking decidedly unhappy.

“I don’t suppose Pasco’s down here with you, is he?” she asked him conversationally. He shook his head, then seemed to realise the oddity of the question.

“Why Pasco?”

“We seem to have lost him, as well.”

“Oh.” Vila looked up from cradling his injured fingers. “Do you think Cally’ll be long?”

“No. How long have you been down here?”

“Days... at least it feels like it...”

“You haven’t even been missing for twenty-four hours,” Jenna told him.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure. What happened? Why didn’t you shout, or something?”

“I didn’t know who I’d be shouting to,” said Vila. Then, “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

Jenna heard the sudden note of panic. “No,” she assured him. “Not until Cally brings someone to get you out.” He accepted that with uncharacteristic silence; Jenna found herself hoping Cally would hurry up.

It was not Cally who appeared at the top of the shaft, however, but Blake.

“Where the hell do you think you’ve been?” he roared, before anyone else could say anything. Vila flinched. 

“Blake...” They heard Cally, in the background; Blake calmed down, slightly.

“We thought you were dead!”

“I’ve felt better,” admitted Vila shakily. It was enough to break the tension; Blake sighed.

“I suppose we’d better get you out; Jenna, come up. There isn’t room for three of us down there.”

Jenna did so, noticing as she emerged that Gan was standing with Blake and Cally.

“You’ll have to lift him out somehow,” she warned. “He can’t manage the ladder; we’ve tried that. And Blake?” 

“Mm?”

“I get the impression he didn’t end up down there by accident.”

“Right.” Blake wasted no time discussing the matter. “Gan, go and see what you can do.”

Gan took Jenna’s place; luckily, he found it easy enough to lift Vila far enough up the shaft for the others to do the rest.

“Mind my fingers!” howled Vila, as they hauled him out. “Ow... Owww! Let go! Blake!” Blake let go; Vila collapsed to the floor, clutching his hand, while Gan appeared behind him and slid the hatch cover safely back into place. “You don’t need to break them again...”

“Sorry,” Blake said, realising that there was at least some basis for the complaint. Vila stopped in surprise. He sat on the floor, grimy and bedraggled, looking up at them all. Damp streaks showed white through the dirt on his face. “I didn’t mean... Are you all right?” inquired Blake apologetically.

“I think the answer to that’s fairly obvious,” pointed out Jenna, as Vila struggled for words.

“We’ll get you to the medical bay,” offered Gan cheerfully, preparing to pick his friend up again.

“No; no, I don’t want to go there,” said Vila, surprisingly. Gan looked puzzled. “I don’t want to... can’t we go to the flight deck, or something? They aren’t there, are they?”

“Who is ‘they’?” asked Cally.

“The _Ortega_ lot.”

“I don’t think so.” This time it was Blake who answered. “We can go to the flight deck if you want to; but you’ll need to get that seen to.” He indicated the hand Vila was still holding on to. “And that,” he added, as Gan lifted their casualty on to his one good foot. “And after that, we’d quite like to know what happened.”

“I could bring the things to the flight deck,” suggested Gan. “We could patch you up there just as easily.” Vila nodded gratefully, wobbling as he made a one-legged attempt to balance. “We’d better get you there first, though.” There was a squawk as Gan swung Vila over his shoulder to do exactly that.

“What... put me down!” Apparently Vila was not yet too far gone to resent this undignified approach; luckily for him, he was the wrong way round to catch Avon’s expression when they walked on to the flight deck.

“The wanderer returns,” remarked Avon, after a moment’s surprise. “More or less intact, I see.” Vila, restored to a seat the right way up, glared.

“Less,” he stated. “So would you be, if someone had knocked you off a ladder and fixed the hatch down above you.”


	11. Chapter 11

There was a pause as everyone took in the implications of Vila’s statement; then Blake said slowly,

“I think you’d better tell us what happened.” While Gan slipped out for the medical supplies, the rest of them gathered round; Vila moved his foot off the couch and on to the table so there was space for everyone to sit down.

“Where do you want me to start?” he asked. Being tipped over Gan’s shoulder had at least restored him to his normal colour- at least, where it could be seen through dirt- but he still seemed slightly dazed by his rescue.

“Try the beginning,” suggested Avon.

“It’s your fault,” Vila accused him. “If you hadn’t sent me to the medical unit in case your murderer turned up, I wouldn’t have been there...”

“But you weren’t in the medical unit when we found you,” interrupted Blake.

“Well, I wasn’t staying there all night when I could have been in my own bed! I waited for a bit, and then I left. Only when I was walking back, I heard someone...”

“Who?”

“I don’t know! Not one of you. The footsteps were wrong.”

“You can tell us apart by footsteps?” queried Jenna. Vila nodded, surprised.

“Can’t you?”

“I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Well, you wouldn’t think Cally was Gan, would you?”

“I suppose not.”

“There you are, then.” Vila paused to regain track of his story. “So it wasn’t one of you, and I thought if there was a murderer creeping round the corridors I didn’t want to meet him...”

“Him?” said Avon inquiringly.

“I wish you’d all stop interrupting! I can’t think straight...”

“That is hardly a new phenomenon.”

Vila glared; Cally gave Avon a reproachful look. Avon sighed.

“You thought it was a man?” he clarified.

“Yes... I suppose so... Yes.” Vila looked up in relief as Gan returned, and gratefully accepted the drink he was handed. He swallowed it in one gulp, which didn’t quite distract him from having his damaged fingers eased into position. “Ow... what are you doing... stop it... _Ow!_ ”

“It will be over in a minute,” Cally assured him.

“I’ll be over in a minute if you don’t stop it!”

“Don’t exaggerate,” said Gan.

“And stay still,” added Cally. Between them, they managed to get Vila’s hand cleaned and into a cast, despite his vociferous complaints that they were trying to finish him off. “There. Is that better?” He nodded reluctantly, warily eyeing proceedings as they moved on to his ankle.

“That doesn’t look broken,” Blake observed.

“No.” Gan reached for the first aid gadget on the table; Vila winced in anticipation, then squinted hesitantly out of one eye as he realised nobody appeared to be torturing him after all.

“Is that it?”

“I think so. How does it feel?”

Vila wriggled his foot experimentally. “Not too bad...”

“It’ll probably be a bit stiff. Try standing,” Gan told him. He did so, cautiously hobbling round the flight deck when he discovered he didn’t immediately fall over, then collapsed back on to the couch in relief.

“You’ll live,” pronounced Blake. “What worries us now is how you ended up like that in the first place. You heard someone coming...”

“So I got out of their way,” said Vila frankly. “Is there anything else to drink? I’m thirsty. It’s hot down in those inspection channels.” Gan got up obligingly. “And I’m starving...”

“Recovery appears to be complete,” remarked Avon sarcastically.

“I haven’t eaten for days! First there was that meteorite storm and...”

“We remember, Vila,” interrupted Jenna hurriedly.

“...and then just when I was feeling better I get imprisoned in some filthy tunnel... I thought I was never going to get out! Those channels run all over the ship. I’ve been crawling about down there looking for a way out for _ever_...”

“Which probably explains why we couldn’t find you,” pointed out Avon. “If you had had the sense to stay put...”

“So whoever it was could come back and finish the job? Oh, yes, very clever...”

“All right,” interrupted Blake firmly. “You’re out now. But how did you get down there in the first place?” Vila reluctantly tore his indignant gaze from Avon, looking as if he would have liked to continue the argument, but explained,

“I opened the hatch and climbed in. There wasn’t anywhere else to hide. I was just putting it back when whoever it was walked over it... and my fingers were in the way.” He grimaced in memory. “They were nearly squashed flat! The Federation do things like that when they torture people... and I didn’t dare make a sound.” He shuffled awkwardly. “But I did fall off the ladder.”

“You...”

“It hurt!”

“I imagine it did,” agreed Blake patiently, “But what made you think it was deliberate?”

“Well, nobody can fall off a ladder quietly, can they? Not even Avon. And I thought, that’s it, they’re going to check and find me, and then I’m going to die... but they didn’t. They didn’t even look! Just put the cover in place properly, so it all looked normal, and walked off.”

“And you’ve no idea who it was?”

“Someone heavy,” said Vila, nursing his hand in its cast. “What happens if this thing gets wet? I think I could do with a wash...”

“Could it have been Pasco?”

“I suppose... Jenna said he was missing!”

“That’s right,” agreed Jenna. “And the neutrotope was found with his things.”

“I thought Avon had it?” Vila looked confused, unaware of the developments in his absence.

“The fake one,” Avon corrected. “It was stolen last night.”

“By whoever shut me in?”

“By Pasco, from the look of things,” said Blake.

“Circumstantial evidence,” argued Vila. “Mind you, that’s often enough to secure a conviction...” He gave a sadly reminiscent sigh.

“You think it wasn’t him?”

“I didn’t say that! I mean, circumstantial evidence isn’t always wrong, is it? It would just be nice if sometimes people remembered it might be, before they went locking you up.”

Blake ignored this lament. “So it might have been Pasco- did Dr Kendall come along to see Grovane?” Avon nodded. 

“I didn’t offer to help in the search. No doubt if he’s meant to be found, he will be.”

“You think... no, let’s concentrate on this first. You’re sure it wasn’t a woman, Vila?”

“Yes.”

“Then that at least rules out Levett.”

“If it was Pasco,” said Vila hesitantly, “Why didn’t he just bump me off earlier? There wasn’t anyone to see him do it.”

“And of the other three... Sonheim was trying to suggest you had disappeared with the neutrotope, earlier.”

“Me? What would I want it for? It’s not even the real one!”

“We know it wasn’t you, Vila,” put in Cally. “But if he was trying to throw suspicion away from himself...”

“I wouldn’t put it past him to stand on my fingers. I told you there was something suspicious about him.” Vila stopped abruptly as Dr Kendall entered, but the _Ortega’s_ captain didn’t seem to notice him, intent on something more troubling.

“We’ve found him, Blake.”


End file.
